Page 98 of Finders Keepers

Nothing seems out of place. Nothing to explain this crawling sensation between my shoulder blades.

I grab my phone, pulling up Dale’s number. My finger hovers over the call button, but I stop myself. Not here. Not now. I need to be somewhere private when I make this call.

Taking a deep breath, I force myself to push the front doors open. Fighting the urge to run.

The bell’s cheerful jingle makes me jump as I step inside.

“Everything go okay at Bexley?” Mary Beth calls from somewhere near the back.

“Yeah, perfect.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel. “Mrs. Harrison was very happy.”

I move to the workroom, needing a moment to collect myself. The familiar space helps—the long steel tables, the neat rows of tools, the peaceful hum of the cool room. But that watched feeling doesn’t fade.

Stop it, I tell myself firmly. You’re being paranoid. He doesn’t know where you are.

But another voice, smaller but persistent, whispers: Are you sure?

I busy myself with cleaning up the workroom, trying to focus on the physical tasks. Sweep the fallen leaves and stems. Wipe down the tables. Check the water levels in the buckets of fresh stock.

“Bailey?” Mary Beth appears in the doorway. “You okay, honey? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine.” I manage a smile. “Just a little tired maybe.”

She gives me that look—the one that says she doesn’t quite believe me but won’t push. “Well, when you’re done in here, I could use your help with the wedding consultation that’s coming in at one. The bride wants to discuss flower crowns for her flower girls.”

“Of course.” Grateful for the distraction, I follow her out to the front of the shop.

But even as I immerse myself in the day’s tasks, that unsettling feeling lingers. Every time the bell above the door chimes, my head snaps up. Every shadow that passes the window makes my heart skip.

I need to call Dale. Need to know where things stand with the paperwork. Need to know if Matt’s made any moves, filed any counter-claims.

But first, I have to get through work. Have to keep up the appearance of normalcy. Have to keep moving forward.

Because that’s what we do now, Sophie and I. We keep moving forward, even when fear tries to drag us back.

I pick up a bundle of roses that needs to be processed, letting their sweet scent ground me in the present moment. The thorns prick my fingers through the garden gloves, and I welcome the sensation. It reminds me that I’m here, now, in this peaceful shop with its floral scents and morning light.

Not back there. Not with him.

But still, I can’t shake the feeling.

Afew hours later, I’m finishing up helping with the last few customers, making sure all the orders for tomorrow are prepped and ready. The strange feeling from earlier has mostly subsided, and I could definitely use another caffeine boost.

“I’m heading out, Mary Beth!” I call out as I grab my purse from the back room. “Need anything, coffee? I’m grabbing some before heading home”

“No thanks. Have a good rest of your day!” She waves from behind a display she’s rearranging.

I grab my purse and head out to the parking lot, fishing for my keys. The late afternoon sun warms my face as I approach my car. My fingers find my keys and I put them into the door and unlock it.

That’s when I see it, a small arrangement of wildflowers resting on my driver’s seat, the stems tied together with some twine. The same blooms from the valley Gavin showed me yesterday. My heart does a little skip as I pick them up, noticing a folded note tucked within the bundle.

“You look pretty today,” it reads in neat handwriting.

A warmth spreads through me, settling like a small flame. I can’t help the smile that breaks across my face. It’s been so long since someone did something this thoughtful just for me.

I close my eyes and breathe in their subtle fragrance. Without overthinking it, I pull out my phone and type a quick message to Gavin:

“Thank you.”

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